


Devil in Disguise

by Shadow_Assassin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Arms dealer, Charity Cover, Charity is real though, College Student Katsuki Yuuri, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Japan, Katsuki Yuuri in Russia, Kidnapping sorta, Lonely Victor Nikiforov, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Polite Mafia Boss, Protective Victor Nikiforov, Russia, Russian Mafia, Self Confidence Issues, Tough choices, developing self confidence, yuuri is powerful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Assassin/pseuds/Shadow_Assassin
Summary: A young man had caught Vikotor's eye and he would do anything to make him his little Persphone. One way or another he was going to make a Devil out of this little angel so that one day he might rule by his side.Yuri Katsuki is a college student just trying to keep his life together during finals. After an unfortunate family emergency that sends his project partner and best friend, Phichit back to Thailand, Yuri is left to do their final project all on his own. Faced with a daunting interview with the head of a large charity organization well known in Russia that plans to expand to the United States.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 15
Kudos: 110





	1. Prologue

The cold water running over me was the only thing that allowed me to breath. Watching the dirt and blood swirl around the drain before disappearing eased the pain in my body and forced me to stay awake a little longer. The ache went numb the longer I stood there, the realization sinking in coldly. This was now my life, by fighting my way out of the warehouse and letting them mark my shoulder, I made my deal with the devil. 

My fate was sealed when I was born as the only child after my father's brothers passed away. They had an ability to get into trouble with their own and other families before they realised what they did. It caused early deaths for the both of them. Turning off the water I stepped out to dry off, wrapping the towel around my waist as I walked out of the bathroom attached to my room. The house was vacant and hollow for the time being, mirroring the feeling inside of my chest. After my father's things were removed it would be even colder, if it was possible.

Home had lost its light and warmth after mom passed away and now there was nothing left but shadows that mocked the warm memories I could muster. She tried her hardest to keep everyone happy. Her parties were always the best. She was always planning everything to perfection. So far as to deny anything from leaving the kitchen unless she’d taught the cook how to make the dish herself. She even planned her own funeral, wanting it to be a formal cocktail party people could enjoy. When she still could she would always lay out my clothes for me, even while she was sick. She would tell me she knew always best and would dress me in a way that she was confident would get me a good girl. Even when I brought Nadia home she still laid out my clothes saying I could still find a good girl to marry.

I Crawled into bed alone, loathing the knowledge that sleep was going to be impossible tonight. The tattoo ached, the bandage as irritating as the thing itself. The double headed eagle they permanently inked into my shoulder was more than just a status symbol. It also stood for the new target on my back. The only way to get rid of the threat was through death or by rising over my father’s legacy. And even then I can never trust the loyalty of all those under my leadership.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Phichit when you land in Thailand and you call to let me know. You are so dead.”

Yuuri's pov  
  
"I'll cover the interview, you need to go home," I say firmly, looking at my roommate and best friend Phichit, making him pack his bag. He had gotten a call about a family emergency and I was making him go. We didn't have much for money but it was enough for a ticket home on such short notice. 

  
"You shouldn't be doing this alone," he says stopping and looking at me. There was worry written across his face.

  
"I'll be fine," I reassure, throwing another shirt at him to pack. I was hoping it was enough for him to believe me. Phichit sighs, staring at me for a moment before packing it in the bag. Shortly after I'm pushing him out the door and into a taxi to the airport, knowing all too well that if I didn’t, he’d decide to stay behind. Phichit was from Thailand and his grandmother was passing. I was not going to allow him to miss saying goodbye to her because of an interview with a company owner from Russia that was expanding into the US. Yes it was our final project but he let me go home to Japan to say goodbye to my family dog last year. It was the least I could do. I could handle it . . . 

Since I had a little more time I carefully packed up our camera, tripod, notebook of questions, microphones, and lights all into “our” car. The guy from Russia that I would be interviewing was kind enough to get us a room at the hotel he was staying in to do the interview. Since they didn’t yet have an official headquarters in the states, renting a room was our only option for the limited window they’d be in the country. Once my stuff was packed finding the popular hotel downtown wasn't too hard. Ten minutes later I was pushing the door open to the room we were supposed to use. I took advantage of the few minutes I had to check myself over in the bathroom mirror.

  
I was wearing a black button up shirt with black dress pants. I pray that it isn’t too obvious that the pants were from the woman’s aisle as I glance at the way they tightly hugged my hips. In my defense, I was in a pinch and they were the only thing that Phichit found that would fit. The button down shirt was more on the sheer side, something that was typically only worn during events related to my competitions . . . not business interviews. I look ridiculous. Good, but not for the impression I wanted to make. See, I wasn’t supposed to be the one making an impression, I was supposed to be behind the camera, not in front of it. Phichit was going to do the actual interview. 

I force myself away from my reflection to finish setting up, locking tripods into place and checking devices to make sure they were on and connected to the laptop that would take the audio recording. The camera audio was a back up option in case I fail to make the mics work, but I’m sure that it was all going to be fine. Maybe. God, I hope so. I can’t afford to fail this, my family will be so disappointed in me.

  
The sudden loud knock at the door nearly gave me a heart attack. I stop fiddling with the instruments and hurried to answer the door. I felt my heart racing, my fear crawling up my throat. This is why I wasn’t supposed to do the interview, damn it. 

But I have to. I can do this.

I look up at the two discreetly dressed men that were at the door, each wearing finely in black tailored outfits.  
"Are you Yuuri Katsuki?" One asks. I nod slowly. 

"We’re here to check the room over before Mr. Nikiforov comes down.” The second explains, casting a glance at his partner.  
"Yes ah, come on in. I guess," I stutter while stepping aside. 

I remain quiet as they search the room. I didn’t know that the man I was meeting with was so famous that he had special bodyguards. I found it a little odd. It could easily cause some problems if they started to mess with the content I could or couldn’t use. "Mr. Nikiforov will be down in 15 minutes." One says before they both leave without sending me a second glance.  
I was able to get my last-minute adjustments done before there was another knock at the door. Trying to get everything perfect was hard with only one person. I didn't want to mess anything up. I knew that everything was fine, but that didn’t stop something in the back of my mind from prodding me with all sorts of worries.

Again, when I opened the door I was greeted by another pair of strangers. They looked friendlier than the last two did, and they were dressed finer as well. They look more welcoming. As welcoming as someone can look when you feel sort of terrified of them.

“Well aren’t you cute,” the one with blonde hair and brown hair says in an accent I couldn’t quite place. I just knew that it certainly wasn't Russian like what I was expecting which threw me off. I brush it aside with a professional, hopefully convincing smile and gesture them towards the interview set up. I’d pushed the furniture around, bringing a table and two chairs to the center of the room. 

“This may not be the best interview you have been in, sir,” I warn before biting the inside of my cheek before quickly forcing myself to stop the nervous habit. “My partner who was supposed to be asking the questions had to fly home earlier because of a family emergency. I’m only good at the camera really.” 

“That’s alright,” The silver-haired one speaks up with more of the Russian accent I was expecting. “We have plenty of time today.” 

“You have a basic camera,” The blonde one says walking over to my setup. “I can adjust it and your lights for you when you two sit down”

I nod slowly before stiffening when a thought occurred to me. The silver-haired one that had been nearly silent during this whole interaction was Viktor. “Umm you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say quickly looking at him. 

“Chris loves cameras,” Viktor says as he approaches me. “Being behind them or in front of them, it doesn’t matter. The camera will be in good hands,” Viktor offered a polite smile. “You have mics for recording, yes?” 

“Um yes, I do,” I say scrambling for the mics on one of the side tables. “Would you like to put it on? On yourself I mean. I can do my own. I just don’t know if you need or want um . . . help.” please say no.

I feel my cheeks flush when he laughs. “Help would be appreciated,” he smiles.

He’s doing it on purpose I conclude when I catch the minuscule look Chris sends towards Viktor, a small raised brow.

I ignore it and nod as I unravel the cord before clipping the little mic below his collar while trying to keep my distance. All the while I feel his eyes burning into me, studying my every move as I try to avoid his gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my hands tremble as I hand him the battery pack so he can clip it to his belt.

“You’re okay,” he says softly. Even though his words are spoken delicately, the feeling of his analytical gaze doesn’t dissipate. 

I was too scared to look up. “You’ll be seated in the white chair there,” I say, casting him a small glance as I clip my own mic on. My heart just about drops when I feel the mic box slip out of my hands when I struggle a little bit with the stiff clip.

Viktor’s hand darts to catch the device that I couldn’t afford to replace if it broke. He looks down at me when he stands up fully after having to duck to grab the box. He ignores my hands when I offer to take the thing back from him, much to my dismay.

“Let me help,” he says, his voice smooth and calm as he easily clips the box to my waistband. I expect there to be humor or disdain in his eyes, but there's nothing of the sort as he watches what he’s doing. He doesn't appear bothered or annoyed by my pathetic actions. He also doesn’t look indifferent, I can’t tell what’s going through his mind as he gently tilts my head up to adjust my mic before taking a second to look me over. I avoid his gaze when he does this, trying with all my power to refrain from blushing like an idiot. 

“Where are you from?” he asks, leaning into my line of sight so I’ll meet his eyes.

“J-Japan.” I stutter. “I'm here on scholarship.” I manage to hold his gaze this time and find myself distracted by his blue eyes. 

“Viktor, you're here for an interview to help him finish his classes, not to flirt,” Chris says, stepping in before Viktor can say anymore. The blonde earns himself a look from Viktor, one that would make Yuuri’s skin crawl if he was on the other end of. He’s too distracted from the silent look to worry about that Chris had just said. 

Chris, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by Viktor’s glower as he waved him off with a roll of his eyes. He mutters something that I can’t understand. Whatever it was, it made Viktor scoff before he went and sat down, ordering me to do the same with a simple nod towards the seat across from him. 

I look over at Chris as he moves to fix a light, shifting it slightly before sending me a wink and moving back behind the camera. “We’re ready,” 

I plaster on the smile I’d learned to perfect over the years, allowing my tension to completely dissipate as I turn to look at the man sitting across from me. This is all I have to do, just put on a smile, go to that calm and collected place and ask the simple questions from the book. That was all, it wasn’t hard. I’d done far harder things in the past. This was nothing “Um Mr. Nikiforov, why don’t you start out with telling us about what your company is and what it does?” My voice sounds far more collected than I feel. 

“I fund and maintain the Russian Medical Research University in Moscow, the organization also has a number of scholarships and grants for students in order to extend schooling and research with the intention of helping young scientists and doctors alike to discover cures and safer medications for those who are sick,” Viktor explains. “And please, call me Viktor.” 

I nod a little and look down at Phichit's notes for a second. “Okay, Mr. um ha- Viktor.” I cringe at myself all the while he cracks a small smile at the failed catch. I clear my throat awkwardly, “What inspired you to dedicate your time and fortune to medical research?”

“My mom,” he starts out. “She had advanced breast cancer at a younger age. She was supposed to die when I was a child, but she managed to survive to see me graduate high school. In her honor, I’ve chosen to pursue medical research for others who are victims of a fate like her own.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss,”

“Thank you. I hope that one day no one has to go through what she did.” His answer was a bit automatic, as if he didn’t want to say any more than he had to. Not that I could blame him. No one likes to talk about the death of a loved one. Especially a mother.

“What’s your favorite thing about what you do?” 

“Seeing lives change and giving kids a chance to help change the world.” 

I glance at my sheet, expecting to find some more questions relating to how the foundation remains afloat and how he affords to support the foundation. I’m rather greeted with questions that make me pale. I’m going to strangle Phichit when he comes back. What do I do? 

“Is everything alright?” Viktor asks carefully after a few seconds pass.

“My partner,” I start with a nervous laugh, “Wrote the interview himself, and it seems his inquisitive side makes this interview take a turn,” possibly for the worst. For me at least. 

“Please continue with what you have. I’m here to answer yours or their questions. Humor me if you must,” He’s intrigued. 

“Please don’t answer anything you’re not comfortable with,” I mutter before looking up at him to continue. “Do you have any hobbies?” 

Viktor smiles at the question, “I play a little golf and poker with the boys every now and then. I like to travel and see the world. You are from Japan correct?” 

“My family owns a Hot spring in Hasetsu,” I answer, quick to carry on before he can start asking me too many questions. It was supposed to be about him after all and that’s why I manage to read the next questions out loud without any hesitation. “Are you gay?” 

I freeze as my brain catches up to my words. I look up at Viktor, less than surprised to be met with a wildly surprised look. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m just reading off the paper, you don’t need to answer that. I will just edit this out before I turn it in and say it was a camera error.” I scramble to undo the damage that I had already done. “I am so sorry I asked that. I can’t believe Phichit was going to ask that. I am so sorry.” 

“It’s alright you can keep it in the video,” Viktor chuckles. He’s relaxed, already acting like the question hasn’t bothered him any. He was a great actor, I can’t imagine that he wasn’t trying to smooth out the situation. He probably will never do another interview again in his career after this. Good work Yuuri. “To answer that question I am not gay. I am Bisexual.”

The man’s answer had me far more surprised than my initial mortification over the original question. The rest of the interview that followed seemed to happen in seconds as I managed to push myself through the rest of the questions that had eventually turned back to the topic of business.

“Thank you for your time Viktor,” I bow to the man respectfully out of gratitude. In the United States, I avoided the action, but after everything that had happened this afternoon, I felt it was only necessary. 

“You’re welcome Yuuri Katsuki,” he smiles, handing me back his mic. “This room is paid for until noon tomorrow. Order anything you would like for supper from room service. I’ll have it all taken care of. Enjoy the rest of your night. I recommend going out to some of the bars down the road they are very good and welcoming”

“He looks too young to be going to bars Viktor.” Chris says as he stands from his seat behind the camera. I look over at the blonde with a slight frown. 

“I’m 23.” 

“You look 19 darling,” Chris smiles at me. “Don’t take it the wrong way, love. Looking young is an amazing thing. It can get you free drinks anywhere you go.” 

“I don’t drink much. I tend to drink too much when I do,” I mutter, glancing towards the wall momentarily, wondering why I’d ever mention that to a stranger.

Viktor smiles as he heads to the door, “We are in room 664A if you get bored and want to come up or you want to go out but not alone. One of us will gladly join you so you don’t drink too much. Please do eat Yuuri. Order anything and everything your heart desires.” 

I nod silently as Chris joins him at the door. “We will talk later, darling,” he smiles as Viktor opens the door and lets Chris lead. When the door closes I just about collapse into one of the chairs. 

“Phichit when you land in Thailand and you call to let me know. You are so dead.” I say to myself looking up at the textured cream ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . First thoughts?
> 
> I'm posting this for a friend, please comment.  
> They're excited to know if people will like the story.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I watched as the window I had opened closed along with all the work I'd done. I hadn't pressed save in at least an hour. My soul leaves my body . . .

Afterward, I started looking at the video to take my mind off of what had just taken place, not nearly calm enough to drive myself back yet. Phichit and I had filmed informative clips over a week ago and had already polished them up, our project consisted simply of the interview and a quick response and reaction to the information provided.

I didn't glance at my phone until it started to vibrate, the time appearing on the lock screen above Phichit's name a startling five hours later than the last time I checked. I glanced at the progress on the new footage that I'd made, mildly content with the extent of it before I picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Yuri. So how'd it go?"

I frown. "Shouldn't you be on a plane?"

There was a pause before Phichit answered. "Well, yeah but I'm stuck in L.A. for the next hour or so. How'd the interview go?" He asks with excitement evident in his voice. "I bet you did amazing,"

"First of all, what is wrong with you? You didn't even warn me about your weird questions. You made me-"

"Wait, but what did he say?"

"About what?"

Phichit huffed. "How did he answer the questions? Did he at all? Did you even ask them?"

"You're just going to have to wait and find that out for yourself when you get back," I answer blankly. There was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of that answer.

"You're no fun," he sighs. "Well, I gotta go. I'll talk to you again when I land."

"I thought you had to wait for an hour," He hung up before I had a chance to finish my

sentence. I look down at my phone, casting it the glare I wish I could send him instead.

I jump at the sound of someone knocking on the door, my phone clattering down onto the keyboard of my laptop. I watched as the window I had opened closed along with all the work I'd done. I hadn't pressed save in at least an hour. My soul leaves my body as I slowly close my laptop and pull myself away from my makeshift workstation to walk towards the door. Who on earth would be at my door? It shouldn't be house cleaning. It was too late for that, and I hadn't checked out of the place yet.

I open the door warily, a blossom of worry flowering in my chest at the sight of the men from earlier, Viktor's security.

"Yuri Katsuki you need to come with us."

"Why?" I ask nervously, narrowing how open the door was by a fraction, ready to slam it shut in a second.

"Because your presence has been requested," One says. I swallow as one steps closer to put a hand on the door, making sure I couldn't shut it. "Immediately,"

I nod in acknowledgment but don't make any effort to follow. I flinch away when one reaches for me, grabbing me by the shoulder and dragging me out of the room. "Don't touch me," I twist away from the hand.

I yelp when I'm grabbed, the world rushing past before I narrowly avoid getting my nose smashed into one of the men's back as I was thrown over a shoulder.

I'm going to die, aren't I? This is where I die, they're going to take me and I'll never see the light of day again. I can't cry, don't cry. You need to call for help, don't cry, please don't cry. Why am I not doing anything? I'm as useful as a sack of potatoes.

I'm having trouble breathing as the ground starts to move past, I can't force myself to speak, nothing will come out of my mouth even though I want to shout.

I stumble when I'm basically dropped, avoiding a collision with the floor only because someone was supporting me. I glanced up, taking note of the panel of buttons on the elevator.

When the doors open, maybe I can run, maybe I'll have enough time to find help, they wouldn't take me while there were witnesses right?

"Don't think about it,"

I flinch at the low voice and start moving as soon as I'm pushed forwards once the door opens with a cheery ding. "What's going on? Who are you?"

I'm not answered as I'm pushed towards a door that leads outside. I stop walking, trying to push back against the force forcing me ahead. If I go outside that door I might not ever see anyone again, this might be the end.

"What- Yuuri?" I turn towards the familiar voice. Viktor was standing a short ways away, looking confused as he glanced at the men holding me captive. "Let go of him," he ordered sharply.

I was released immediately and didn't hesitate to make a dash towards the more or less familiar person, only beginning to question whether that was the right thing to do after I was at his side. These men looked like they were Viktor's, so why were they trying to kidnap me? Maybe I shouldn't stop here.

"What part of _asking_ entails forcefully dragging someone down to the lobby?" sharp blue eyes focus on the two across from Viktor, the men seeming unsure how to respond to the Russian.

"Ask what?" I mutter.

Viktor looks down at me, about to answer only for a voice to interrupt whatever he was going to say.

"Woah, Angel you look scared. What happened?" I recognizew Chris as he walks over, casting Viktor a look. "Are we still going to eat?"

Viktor looked like he'd been put on the spot as he shifted away slightly to turn towards me. "I apologize, Yuuri. I intended to invite you to dine with me. I never thought that such a simple task would be proven to be so poorly executed," he sends a glare at his men as they walk outside. I follow them with my eyes, watching as they get into the front of a car waiting just beyond the door.

"Why didn't _you_ ask?" I regret the question as soon as it leaves my mouth, even more so when I don't even get an answer from the man across from me. Instead, he just stares at me for a few seconds as red creeps up my face. He seems a bit surprised by the question. "It's nothing," I say quickly to try and move away from the topic.

"No, it's not." Chris scoffed. "Something as small and sweet as you shouldn't be as scared as you look. What happened?" He demanded.

"Viktor said something about food," I insist, having no desire to recall the events from just moments ago. I'm stupid for implying that I want to go. I don't. I really want to go home.

"They didn't even let you grab a jacket." Chris objects.

"Chris," Viktor sighs, casting him a warning look. "Why don't you see Yuuri to the car, if he wants to come, that is. I'll be there in a moment,"

Chris doesn't react right away, but he nods before finally walking over to me, offering a hand. "Come dear, I promise you It'll be a fine night once we get all this behind us."

Chris and Viktor seemed like a strange pair, two people that you wouldn't think could get along. Chris was something near a ray of sunshine and Viktor . . . I'm not sure how to describe him. He hasn't really given away enough to make it easy to read him. He was careful.

"Okay," I say quietly and follow as Chris takes me to the car waiting outside. I join him in the back as we wait for Viktor, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. I try to convince myself everything is fine. I still find that nearly impossible to believe when Viktor joins us. He seems calm when he opens the door to the back and waits a moment as I scoot into the middle of the back seat so that he can join us.

"Tell me, Yuuri, did they grab you hard?" He asks, with a tone that I found slightly off, like my answer would ultimately mean something more than just yes or no.

I look over at Chris who's also studying Viktor closely. "I'm fine," I answer quickly as I turn back to Viktor. There was a pause before the man said something in Russian to the driver.

"I hope you are okay with Italian," Viktor adds a moment later.

"I like Italian," I say thinking of the Olive Garden Phichit and I like to occasionally frequent. Needless to say, I was not expecting us to pull up to one of the most upscale Italian restaurants in the area.

"Oh my god, Viktor I don't think I can even afford a glass of water here," I say looking at him before he opens the door. My heart is beating in my chest. Why here? Of course, he would choose here, he has money, but why me? Why did I agree to come?

He laughs, seeming to find my panic amusing. I can still read the judgment laced in the smile though. I should have been able to predict what he was about to say. "Oh, Yuri you don't have to worry about money. I think I can take our bill,"

I stare at him for a moment, nervous but suddenly enraptured by the look he was giving me. At least until Chris gave my sleeve a light pull to follow him out of the car before Viktor shut his door.

The hostess greets us when we walk in and takes us to a private table near the back. I sit across from Chris while Viktor picks the chair next to me before we're offered menus and water. It's quiet between us as I take my time to try and figure out what the food is that's being listed off.

"Hey, sugar daddy, why don't you help the little Yuuri out with ordering? He looks a little confused." Chris says.

I refuse to look up from my menu as the red creeps up my face. I didn't think I was making it that obvious I couldn't read Italian. And why would he call him that? Was it a joke between the two? Was it because Viktor was going to pay?

I tense when an arm comes to rest around my shoulder and pull me closer. "Well Yuuri, what are you interested in?" Viktor asks in all seriousness, blue eyes staring icily at the foreign words.

"It all s-sounds good, I just can't choose," I stutter a bit with my words while attempting to play off any antics. "What do you recommend?

"If you don't know what the menu says Yuuri, it is alright," Viktor says, pulling his arm away to look at me and rest his hand on my shoulder in a comforting way. "Are you allergic to anything?" I shake my head no as he takes the menu from me with his other hand.

His hand is a steadying weight on my shoulder and I find myself relaxing. It was as alarming as it was calming that a stranger could make me feel like that when I've lived most of my life with anxiety gnawing away at my happiness and composure.

"Shrimp, steak, or chicken?" He asks.

"The steak is amazing," Chris smiles as I glance at him. Viktor turns my head back to him.

"Don't let Chris persuade you into having something you don't want," Viktor said evenly. It was almost an order.

"Is the chicken good?" I ask quietly, he felt comforting, but the moment I look into his steel blue eyes I was confused. With one look he made me nervous again. He nods to answer my question. "I'll have chicken." It was unsettling.

"I will order something I'm sure you will like," Viktor pulls away with a confident tone.

"I trust that you won't get me anything that is bad," I mutter.

"Will you order for me too Vitya," Chris purrs from across the table as Viktor waves a waiter over for us.

"No," Viktor says flatly, not looking at his friend. Chris pouts a little as Viktor begins to speak with the waiter. I have no idea what he orders, but the names sound like they'd kill me if I'd tried to order from myself.

Chris gives his own choices before our waiter disappears.

"Aside from school, what do you do Yuuri?" Viktor asks.

"I help teach little kids how to dance," I say. "I'm like an assistant,"

"What classes do you help with?" He asks, tilting his head curiously. It's a funny thing to see from such a serious man.

"Ballet mostly. I grew up taking lessons in my hometown, and I needed money. They had an opening at a small studio here so . . ." I shrug.

"So, you are pretty flexible then. Right?" Chris smirks.

"Why are you asking? It's not like I'm going to show you," I say defensively, not even thinking. My heart jumps when I realize what I just said. "I-I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from. I just help teach like 6-year-olds, so I don't do much more than basics anymore." I rush.

"No, that's alright," Chris says. "I like to see you be a little sassy."

"You don't know me," I remind him.

"We want to get to know you," Chris's eyes flick over to Viktor. I glance up at the silver-haired man who was watching his friend intently before glancing down to meet my gaze. He gives me a forced smile that I brush off. It didn't seem like Viktor wanted to get to know me.

"What else do you do?" Viktor asks.

"I study and sleep. Not much," I say. "It's pretty average for a student."

"We used to go out and party," Chris smiles motioning to himself and the Russian next to me.

"No offense but you probably didn't have to worry about keeping grades up to keep scholarships," I say looking at him.

"How many scholarships do you have?" Viktor asks.

"I received 5 of them but I lost one recently as I went into my 5th year of a 4-year program."

"I can't believe they can do that," Chris says causing me to shrug.

"It's in the requirements and it wasn't much money anyways," I say, brushing it off. Really, that scholarship helped me out a lot but I wasn't going to say that out loud to them.

"Are there really children here?" Chris gasps in offense as one goes screaming by. "I have to behave if there are children around."

"You should behave no matter what Christophe," Viktor sends him a dirty look.

"Oh if I wasn't naughty every now and again your life would be boring, Sugar Daddy," he smirks leaning across the table towards Viktor. Chris and Viktor were close; it was easy to tell that. It feels like I'm intruding.

"Ne hrubyt" Viktor warns in what I assume is Russian.

Taking the initiative to change the subject. I look at Chris. "Where are you from?"

"Switzerland," he says, turning his attention to me after giving Viktor a look. "I met Viktor at college, we had a great time and when he went home after graduating to take over the family business i went with to go help him."

"Sounds like you guys are busy," I say trying to keep my voice level. One of the questions I didn't ask that was a follow up to questioning Viktors sexuality as if he was seeing anyone. It was looking a little obvious to what that answer was. It's not like I had (or wanted) a chance, but it figures someone as good looking as Viktor had someone like Chris. I feel so uncomfortable. I don't belong here. I don't want to be here.

I flinch when the kid goes running by again. "Yuuri are you okay, hun." one of them asks, trying to get my attention as I glance around the restaurant. We were towards the back so I could see everyone and suddenly the noise of it all was getting to me. I could hear the laughter and conversations all around us, the kid who started to scream while he ran laps. There was an argument between the parents of the child and the restaurant manager. Even the sound of forks and spoons bumping the glass plates and bowls was becoming prominent. I was cold, I was hot I couldn't focus on anything. I couldn't get myself to move. I felt stuck. I wanted to leave. I don't know these people, why did I come? Of course this is happening now, in front of these people. These important people. I'm humiliating myself, aren't I?

I yelp as someone bumps into me. Suddenly there's hot food and plates falling on me. I don't hear myself as I react before I try to get away from it all. As I scrambled to get up and away from the searing food. I feel myself hit something else. This thing catches me and holds on. I try so hard to hold back my tears.

I freaked out. I panicked. I shouldn't have panicked. Everything was going so nice, why did I ruin it? Why did I have to be like this? Nothing serious happened, so why did my body have to act like right now I was going to die if I didn't run away? I really wanted to leave, but I was too embarrassed to move.

"Yuri come back to me," the voice says softly. It felt far away. "Yuuri аngyehl, are you okay?" It didn't feel that way. I didn't feel that way now, crying in front of complete strangers. I just want to hide forever.

I don't quite understand what happens next as I'm helped to my feet and walked outside. I just want to curl up, hardly able to support myself which only makes my own horror worse as I continue to humiliate myself. I can hear them arguing, but I can't seem to understand a word they're saying. But maybe that's because they're not speaking English. Who am I to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this is Cynder, I have never let anyone other than Nyxx read my work. I am always super scared to share my work for being picked on. As Nyxx has very graciously helped me improve my writing and plot to the point I feel confident enough to start sharing my work. I have asked them to help guide me through editing and posting to get a feel for if my work is accepted. As scared as I am of everything backfiring, I would like to hear what I can work on, what is good, and I love the idea of being able to listen to my crowd to help give me inspiration. Now I will state right away I can not make every dream come true but I like putting little random things together. I hope I get a few people interested in my stories, I have a few. 
> 
> Author: Cyndersoul (Wattpad)
> 
> Editor: Shadow-Assassin (Wattpad) / Shadow_Assassin (AO3)


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